Harry on the Tube
by StevenTyler
Summary: It's 2012 in London, a normal dreary day. The passengers on the train certainly did not expect to watch a large man and considerably smaller child board. Especially when they were talking about dragons.


**AN: So I can't believe that I started another story, but I was bored, and in study hall. The first part is a bit of a prologue. I'm not quite sure where this one came from, but yeah,… enjoy. **

**Disclaimer: I may own the random muggles, but I don't claim the be J.K. Rowling.**

To say it was a shock would be an understatement. I am quite sure that all fans will agree with me that seeing the object of your obsession on the train would be an exceptionally amazing event. Unless their fictional. If you saw a small child of eleven with a suspiciously shaped scar on his forehead with an unusually large man, who was talking about dragons of all things, you would want to take a look, and perhaps even a second one. For in the year 2012, such things are very unusual. At first I thought that the two were simply eccentric fans, weren't we all, but the strange part was that they didn't seem to be simply in character. Even from my vantage point a few seats down, there was no 'air'I guess you could call it, surrounding him. Even the most hardcore fans know that at the end of the day they go back to being just themselves. Somehow, I don't know, it seems like the small child was living his role. Having observed the strange pair for a sufficient time for the moment, my attention was drawn to the whispering happening between a young girls and her mother. The girl was no older than eight, but seemed taller, and in general healthier than the curious boy. With a sudden exuberance, she swung deftly off her grimy hard plastic seat and bounded towards the curiosity. Striking and capturing his hand like a snake towards prey, the girl wildly swung his arm in all directions, in a crude imitation of a handshake.

" 'Allo! 'M Darla! Are you really Harry Potter?" She reached out and poked his scar with childlike wondering. The boy seemed a bit taken aback but eventually replied back, albeit in a small, slightly timid voice,

"... Yes. Why?" By now the entire compartment had fallen silent with this confirmation. Even those who have not read the books Nor have seen the movies knew who the famous 'Harry Potter' was. The fans on the train, myself included, were probably wondering if he was for real, and if so how Rowling had known. A bit more pressing, though, if all of the things in the books were true, which was a wide assumption even with the confirmation of his name, was there going to be a war?

Husband, if any strange occurrences grow more common, if there are cover-up, or escaped convicts, please come home. This may seem to be all imagined wonderings, but if there is even an inkling of anything being true, then don't be a skeptic. Your children don't need a father who died because he refused to believe.

**Your loving Wife**

Harry had been having a rather odd day. From being told he was a wizard to being taken from the hut on the rock, he would have to say that the oddest occurrence so far would have to be the people on the tube. After entering Diagon Alley, it had been odd when wizards and witches had fallen over themselves to meet him but at least he was given a reason on why that was, regardless of whether or not he actually did anything that they claimed.

When the hyper girl had asked him what his name was, Harry at first felt bewildered. How had anyone known his name? He was just Harry. And when he acknowledged that she was right, the entire compartment hushed up. Some had even looked at him with long looks filled with pity, as if they knew something about him that he didn't!

Harry would have been able to put all of that behind him if a flurry of motion didn't occur just then.

Harry's shoes were very interesting at the moment. Back At the hut, when Hagrid had seen his broken laces and worn down soles, he had waved the pink umbrella again and with a shower of sparks, Harry's shoes were almost as good as new. A thick book with a colorful cover waving in front of his face broke him out of his memory. After taking it and placing the book onto his lap, Harry glanced shyly at the face of the person who had given him a gift for some reason, something that, other than Hagrid, no one could claim. A smile worked its way from among the wrinkles to appear on the face of the older gentleman when he saw Harry smiling nervously in thanks. Ignoring the dirt coating the floor from hundreds of passengers, the man knelt down so that he was at eye level with the boy. Harry jumped a bit when he heard the clack of metal on metal right next to him. He relaxed once the image of a metal and silver embossed cane rolled into view from its position of leaning against the seat edge. The man was handed a stack of items from a younger passenger who after dropping off the package paused momentarily in the middle of the aisle. She fiddled with a stray string from her peacoat while glancing between Harry and the item resting in his lap. Following the woman's train of sight, he reexamined the book and made an effort to make out the title from behind his cracked lenses.

"Harry... Potter? And the... Philosopher's Stone?"


End file.
